Tempus Fugit: No Compromises
by crazy-ranger
Summary: S5 starts here! Finito-ed!
1. Default Chapter

If you've forgotten the bulk of the episode watch it again- then read this. Some of these will run instead of the episodes storyline/s, others will be more additional material. – Crazy Ranger  
  
In loving memory of Richard Biggs, who died a few hours after this was originally posted.  
  
I can be angry, I can be sad, I can scream and cry and it wont do any good... for today our world is diminished. A voice that is loud in many of our individual worlds is heard no more, and what is worse for no good reason.  
  
The best thing we can do is keep watching, no matter the lump in our throat, the knot in our stomach, the tears in our eyes. If we stop watching because it is less painful, then his work was for nothing. As long as we view, and we are able to appreciate his craftsmanship, his dedication to his work, then he is forever captured as living on our screens, and in our hearts. The beauty of Television is that no matter how much time passes, there will always be a permanent reminder of a persons existence, and the impact their life made on the world. Only today can I truly appreciate the impact of this man.  
  
To absent friends, in memory still bright.  
  
Captain Ivanova rested her feel on the console. For once in it's existence, CNC was quiet. Just her luck, her last shift within these walls would be quiet and un-memorable. She looked out at the stars, knowing that in a little over six hours she'd be gone.  
  
Her decision to leave was born of many factors. This place was hell of a job to run, and she didn't want to burn out on her first command. Second, things around here were changing so rapidly. She'd had to go from extreme dis-trust and hate of Garibaldi, back to liking him again. Sheridan and Delenn were married, Sheridan was the president( all but for the inauguration which was due to take place tomorrow). Susan wasn't sure if she could face this brave new age they were entering. She didn't want to see her friends fail. If it was going to happen- she'd rather be out there than right up close to their pain.  
  
Then, there was Marcus. He'd been in med lad for just over a month, and was on the verge of Stephen kicking him out of the door. He'd been very slow coming back. She'd stuck close for the first week or so, when he still spent most of his time sleeping. As soon as he became more self aware he wasn't so easy to be around. Now that she was able to hold a conversation with him, they both ran out of things to say. At all costs she avoided mentioning what had happened. It'd just make things more awkward between them. More awkward? She hadn't visited in three days- she hadn't even told him she was going.  
  
Maybe her headache would go if she got out of here. This headache was worrying her now. She had tried to think what the healing device could possibly have done to give her a constant throbbing between her temples. She had one theory, which she did not particularly wish to consider. If it was as she suspected, then she needed to get out of here before anything happened- or anyone found out.  
  
She hadn't been here much in the last few months. She'd been fighting a war, so docking ships had not been her priority. Now as captain she hadn't spent that much time here either. Susan had been hip deep in bureaucracy. Lets face it, she thought. When God came up with the plan for this place he was being ambitious. She very much doubted God had her in mind for keeping this place going anyway. As her last scheduled shift in CNC, she wanted to be here.  
  
The door to CNC slipped open and David Corwin walked in, hoping the message he had to convey to his C:O would not be too badly accepted. She had a terrible habit of shooting the messenger.  
  
Susan glanced over her shoulder, then spun around in her chair on seeing who had entered.  
  
"David, I told you to take the night off." She remarked in reasonably warm tones, as she sipped what may well be her last cup of coffee on the station. It was gorgeous, not too bitter, not too sweet, but plenty strong.  
  
"Well um..." Corwin began slightly nervous. "I was, just overseeing the problem we were having with the communications grid."  
  
He was holding something back. He wasn't happy with telling her- what the hell could possibly have gone wrong?  
  
She sighed, "Lieutenant, why do I get the feeling you're trying to tell me something."  
  
Corwin walked toward her and passed her a status report, before breaking the news. "We just picked a note from Earth force to you, regarding the change of command." David began, not wanting the wrath of his Captain to fall upon him. "Captain Lockley has been delayed by a bad jump-gate, the Acheron won't be jumping here until tomorrow at least."  
  
He finished his sentence and awaited the repercussions...which when they didn't come after ten seconds- he wondered what was going on.  
  
Ivanova sighed with extreme annoyance, but didn't yell, or scream or hit anyone. Maybe this was Gods way of making her reconsider, or at least giving her ample opportunity to say goodbye.  
  
She forced a smile at David- who looked like he was scared for his life. "Okay, I'll have the Earth Alliance owe me another favour." She murmured before spinning her chair around to look back at the stars. Somewhere out there, there was a place where they'd never heard of Babylon 5- and right now she wished she were stranded there. 


	2. Act 1

John rounded the corner and entered his old office, which was now in a casual display of disarray by its new occupant. The paperwork was spilling onto the floor and the potted plant in the corner seemed to be wilting from neglect. For a person who was meant to have left this morning, Susan seemed to be in no hurry to pack up and get out.  
She didn't even look up, she just chewed the end of the pen a little more and illegibly scribbled her signature at the bottom of the page. Dear God, she was becoming a bureaucrat! "Be with you in a minute John," She mumbled, trying to figure out what in the hell the initials SFINOR-3 could possibly stand for. Who the hell made up these stupid military acronyms anyway? It was supposed to make life easier by shortening, not harder by making the meaning elusive. She stared at the initials again, then pushed the paper away and stood up.  
  
"I see you didn't take long in taking my office," John smirked, although noticing no sign of any personalised clutter. Only the paper spread everywhere. Ivanova looked ready to tear her own hair out and throw it over the office.  
  
"Well you can have it back." Susan declared, her bad mood evident in her voice. "This job is completely unreasonable!" She yelled, suddenly afterward realising that she was not helping this headache. Infact it was getting worse no matter what she did. Maybe she should go and have a cat- scan or something.  
  
"I know," John smiled, sympathising with her position. "I've had those days."  
  
"Well, at least I can get out of here," She blinked, feeling the light getting brighter. "Assuming the new captain will grace us with her presence sometime tomorrow."  
  
Sheridan half laughed again, but wished he could find a way to talk her out of going. Susan was experienced, well taught in the art of diplomacy and knew this place like the back of her hand. Anyone replacing her was going to have hell of a lot to live up to. Not to mention at some point in the future he'd have a lot of explaining to do for Delenn in reference to the new C:O.  
  
"Should I warn you now that I know the new captain quite well?" He remarked in good humour.  
  
"Probably a good idea before I shoot my mouth off." She added as she collapsed into her chair and rubbed her eyes. She was tired of this place. "At least Lockley probably knows what a-"Susan paused and grabbed the paper to read it back to John, "a SFINOR-3 is. The best I've come up with is "Salted flarn In nee of rice. The three could mean anything."  
  
John laughed again. Despite her apparent grouchiness, Susan was really good humoured about most situations. The last time he'd met Lockley, her sense of humour had needed drastic work. "Acronyms not withstanding, You mean you won't miss this place a bit?" John continued.  
  
"I didn't say that." Susan mumbled, going off into a different train of thought. "I'll miss the people, You, Michael, Stephen, Delenn..."  
  
"Marcus." John added, knowing where a lot of her awkwardness as of late had come from.  
  
Ivanova eyeballed Sheridan. There was nothing she hated more than being made to face up to things. "Yeah, even him."  
  
"Have you told him?"  
  
Pausing she turned away for a moment, and lowered her voice, like a child answering back to their parent. "Not as such."  
  
"Susan! You were meant to leave this morning!"  
  
"I know, I know." She enforced, not appreciating being chided by John. "It's just-"She paused, trying to word it. Or at least think of a reasonable excuse. "I don't know how he'd react. The last thing he needs is a relapse."  
  
"How is he?" John enquired. "I haven't been by lately, what with everything that's going on." "He should be out of med-lab by the end of the week," Susan remarked, finding a smile reaching her lips. "-if Stephen doesn't kill him first."  
  
"That bad?" Sheridan asked, widening his eyes.  
  
"You've never spent much time with Marcus alone have y-"Her link cut her off. She activated it and raised her hand to her mouth. "Ivanova, go."  
  
Corwins voice came over the link again bearing bad news. Susan was becoming aware that she wasn't the only one who was finding promotion to be a pain in the ass. "Captain, we need you in bay 3. We have a situation."  
  
Susan hung her head and replied, although it was quite evident that the universe hated her. "I'll be there."  
  
"It's always in the middle of a sentence" John remarked at the call for her.  
  
Ivanova went to leave and mumbled vaguely in Sheridan's direction. "I'll catch up with you later John."  
  
"Susan-"he called out to her, causing her to stop. "You're gonna be at the inauguration, right?"  
  
"I don't know," She sighed, wanting to avoid crowds of people. Londo walking up and asking how his good and dear friend captain Ivanova was, G'kar asking if she'd dropped by to see Marcus. Numerous ambassadors telling her that the station would not be the same without her. She wouldn't be able to stand it.  
  
"Come on." John nagged, knowing that as her ex-C:O he held a certain power over her. "This is important to me and it'd mean a lot to have you there."  
  
"I don't know, I'll see." She replied awkwardly. She'd think of a good excuse later.  
  
"Okay, I suppose I can't make you." John smiled, but he somewhere felt a pinch of disappointment. She didn't want to stay close, she was drifting away from them already...he didn't want to loose her. But if she didn't want to be held down then he couldn't stop her. He had to let her make her own mistakes, John had too much to think about to run her life as well. He reached out and clasped her shoulders. "But don't forget who your friends are, and where they are."  
  
Susan smiled weakly, wishing she could explain to John fully what was going on- why she had to go. But the words escaped her. She turned to leave again.  
  
Sheridan thought for a moment, then called her back again. "Susan!"  
  
"Yeah?" She answered exasperatedly, turning on her heel.  
  
He thought again for a brief moment, then spoke. "Starfuries in need of repair- 3."  
  
Susan just laughed, then left.

* * *

Susan walked quickly out of her office and in the opposite direction to John. Her head was pounding again. This wasn't good. She could feel the blood pushing her veins wide and against her temples. Voices. A cacophony of voices getting louder, reaching a terrifying crescendo. She couldn't breathe, the breath was stolen from her lungs, her head became light. Ivanova stopped and lent against a wall. Louder, louder, so many voices. This was a really bad sign.  
  
Her mothers voice came to her, from deep in her memory.  
  
Build it taller. Built it brick by brick until they are gone.  
  
She fought against them, pushed them away. She'd had no idea how it felt, to hear so many that you loose yourself in them, your own voice swallowed by chaos. Eventually, they started to fall away, until they became a background hum. Susan quickly pulled herself together and carried on, knowing for certain that getting away from here soon would be a good thing. That way, she wouldn't have to tell anyone.  
  
And from a distance, Byron watched her walk away.

* * *

In the docking Bay, Ivanova was met by the sight of Corwin standing beside a body under a sheet. He looked particularly apprehensive as his C:O for the next twenty-four hours approached, looking worse for wear from the days trials.  
  
Silently, she gestured for him to begin, not wanting to ask herself who the poor unfortunate under the sheet was. Taking a deep in breath, Corwin began.  
  
"We found him floating outside the station. He's definitely a ranger. He was in commercial stasis bubble when we picked him up-"He paused, about to drop in a complication to the situation. "-But he didn't die of exposure to space."  
  
"Let me see." She remarked, trying to push down any emotional attachment to the empty shell on the gurney. Her hand shot forward to the head of the bed.  
  
"It's not pretty ma'am." David added, causing her to hesitate.  
  
She paused and forced out a joke. "Is it ever?" Susan threw back the sheet.  
  
She said nothing for a moment. She wasn't mentally prepared to see that. Not in that uniform. "God." She remarked finally, throwing the sheet back over, as if she were erasing the memory of the rangers face by doing so. "Why kill a ranger?" She turned to David, who held out a sign with letters on it.  
  
"He had this around him when he was found."  
  
Ivanova took the sign from him. This was an attack on the alliance itself. On all of them, and of the home of the fledgling alliance. "Nice." She remarked breathlessly before pulling herself back to her professionally distanced stature. "Get the body to med-lab." She instructed Corwin. "I wanna know how long he's been dead."  
  
The body was wheeled away. God, what a last day.

* * *

Dear Mr President,  
As of this date, You are officially a dead man. Have a nice day. 


	3. Act 2

Susan walked back with heavy feet towards Medlab. The Dockers guild had been insistent on seeing her, even though this time tomorrow she wouldn't be in charge of the station. She was almost glad of Stephen calling her out of that damned meeting. When she joined Earth force she had never intended to be in meetings involving money.  
  
She stepped forward into the transport tube beside a tall man dressed all in black. He had long blond hair down past his shoulders. He smiled at her briefly and looked back to the doors again. He said nothing. The tube moved down a few levels then stopped. Three arguing Drazi stepped in and both Susan and the man stepped back. She raised her hand to her forehead and rubbed her temple, unable to avoid her headache.  
  
The man watched, then smiled again. As if a bubble had appeared around her, suddenly she couldn't hear the Drazi anymore. Confused, Susan looked up.  
  
"Captain Ivanova?" The man asked, sounding particularly sure of himself. He was very calm, and had an English accent- another English accent.  
  
She merely nodded, trying to gauge what was going on. Was he a telepath?  
  
"My name is Byron," he spoke softly, his voice almost lulling her. "I've been trying to meet with you all day, but you have seemed rather busy. It is with the utmost importance you meet with me in Brown 3 in about half an hour. Bring no-one else with you."  
  
"What's in Brown 3?" She asked, almost alarmed by her lack of suspicion towards this man. She seemed almost in a trance- a dizzy whirl of bureaucracy, a dead ranger and the Dockers guild had left her dis- orientated enough to listen to him.  
  
"My people are gathering there." He paused and the smile dropped into a visage of concern. He stepped forward and touched her temple. "I fear you will need us before long."  
  
His hand broke away and the lift doors opened, he glanced back for a moment, smiled again and walked out. As she lost sight of him, the noise of the three Drazi instantly came back to her.

* * *

Susan rounded the next corner into med-lab. She couldn't see Stephen immediately on her arrival, did he think her time was infinite? If he was going to call her he could at least be around.  
  
"Stephen?" She called out, wincing when she realised that Marcus was in the next room and had probably heard her.  
  
Franklin appeared from the other side of the Iso lab, wiping his hands on a cloth. "That was quick." He remarked as to her prompt appearance. Her punctuality as of late had been a little lax.  
  
"You called me out of a meeting I didn't want to be in. For once I'm glad to be here, I only wish it were under better circumstances." She explained, hoping that Stephen wouldn't give her a report that would enlarge her headache. "So... what did the autopsy show?"  
  
"PPG shot straight to the heart. The superheated helium tore through his ribcage, incinerated his heart and broke the 15th and 16th vertebrae. I'd say that he's been dead for about a week, but he hasn't been in space that long. A few hours maybe."  
  
"So do you think he was killed elsewhere?" Ivanova inquired, lowering her voice slightly, not wishing the whole of med-lab to hear about murdered ranger- especially Marcus.  
  
Stephen sighed and thought for a moment. He drew together his verbal conclusion. "There's no record of him boarding the station, so most likely the body was left here for us to find."  
  
"Do you think this has something to do with the inauguration? What with the sign we found on him?"  
  
"Maybe. It looks like the killer knew what they were doing." Franklins voice seemed to trail off, he seemed to be going into one of his long tangents on the sanctity of life again. For once Susan felt disheartened enough to join him.  
  
"You know it's strange." He began, staring past her, not particularly focusing on anything. "I've treated thousand of patients- performed more autopsies that I can remember- or should ever want to remember."  
  
He sighed again, Susan realised how much that Rangers body had upset him. But this was a situation they hadn't had to deal with before. Murdered Rangers were not common place.  
  
"When a body comes through that door and there's nothing you can do for them, I always wonder who they were. Somebody's sibling, Somebody's child, somebody's parent, spouse, friend. The difference they made in the universe...and what could be gained from their death."  
  
Susan decided to jump on the bandwagon as well. As she well knew, being depressed on your own is no fun. "What does God gain from taking anyone? And why take someone so young?"  
  
Stephen semi-smiled at her, glad to see he was for once not travelling this train of thought alone. "The fragility of humanity is something that will plague us forever, So I suppose we must appreciate the moments. Cling to every second."  
  
He smiled again, and raised his eyes to her. He'd miss her very much when she went. "I'm glad it's not just me having these thoughts."  
  
"You're awfully maudlin today." Ivanova remarked to her friend. His smile was fading, he looked depressed now as well.  
  
"I'm loosing one of my best friends Susan- what do you want me to feel?" He added with an almost angry edge to his voice. This wasn't very Stephen like. "And when the hell are you gonna tell Marcus?" He said a little louder, half hoping that Marcus would overhear.  
  
"I will." Susan added, not appreciating being chided twice in one day. "Soon."  
  
"How about now? Considering you're not even supposed to be here." Franklin retorted. He really didn't feel she was being fair on Marcus.  
  
"Stephen," She began, trying to find a way out of this without confronting her saviour. "Don't you think he's got enough to deal with at the moment without hearing that I'm-"  
  
"Don't use that as an excuse." Franklin cut her off. There was no way in hell he was telling Marcus after the fact. "You should tell him the truth."  
  
He paused for a moment, not wishing to start an argument with Susan over this. After all, he was only her friend, and Marcus friend. He was only a close observer of what'd happened recently. Why should he have to get involved? Especially as Susan was so lacking in gratitude she wasn't even going to tell Marcus she was going.  
  
"Well, it's your prerogative." He continued, dropping the subject for the moment. "You could at least go and talk to him now. He's driving me nuts."  
  
At that moment an object came flying out of the doorway of the side room and landed at Susans' feet, It seemed Marcus was having another fit of frustration with his rubix cube.  
  
"Again?" Stephen enquired, raising his voice towards Marcus direction.  
  
"Sorry!" Marcus voice projected into the rest of med-lab.  
  
"Twelfth time today Marcus."  
  
"Better than counting my toes." He remarked, the length of his captivity beginning to show through the wearing thin of his humour. "Is Susan out there?"  
  
"I'm just sending her in." Franklin yelled before turning back to a rather irate Ivanova. "Can't escape it now." He teased before becoming a little more serious. "C'mon, he wants to see you."  
  
Susan tried to push her anxiety aside. How bad could it be? It was Marcus, he just wanted someone to talk to. What did she have to be nervous about? Only that five weeks previously he'd tried to die to save her- because he was madly in love with her. Only that now she noticed how he looked at her. Only that tomorrow she was going to leave him behind. What did she have to be nervous about?

* * *

"Knock, Knock." She said aloud and far too cheerfully, standing at the threshold of the room. He looked different.  
  
"Hey." Marcus greeted her sitting up. He looked her up and down- she always found that unsettling. "Long time no see." He spoke wryly. She looked nervous as hell, probably feeling guilt ridden at leaving him alone for three days. Good.  
  
"Yeah, sorry about that." She apologised handing him his well dented rubics- cube. He'd been working on it for a week and no joy. "You know how crazy it gets around here." Marcus rolled his eyes in reply and looked back as his rubics-cube, as if he were trying to make the answer appear to him through gazing at it. It gave the impression he was becoming a little self-absorbed and dis-jointed from reality. "How are you feeling?" Ivanova inquired, not too sure if he were still upset with her.  
  
"Like Chicken." He replied curtly, placing the cube on the locker beside him. He supposed he'd better let her off the hook- she did have a hell of a lot of responsibility at the moment. He had just liked living with the delusion that he was more important than her busy lifestyle. Finally he cracked his face into a smile to reassure her.  
  
Relieved, she returned his smile. He still looked terrible. He was horrendously underweight and still pale enough to pass for a dead man. He'd taken such a long time coming back this time. It'd taken three weeks for him to heal where Stephen had operated. He'd been barely able to speak for the first week, most of the time he was in too much pain to know what was going on. After that he started sleeping less and started trying to get out of bed and escape.  
  
"Stephen said you were being a pain in the ass." Susan remarked, sitting beside him and looking at him again. He was different- it was blatantly obvious what was so different. His beard was almost gone. He must of only had a couple of days growth there. "What happened to your beard?"  
  
Marcus sighed and leaned back, folding his arms to show his annoyance and protest. "They shaved me." For a moment, Susan thought it was quite funny- but she quickly reconsidered. There was nothing so funny about being incapable of taking care of yourself. However Marcus had continued on to make a point.  
  
"Yesterday I went missing and washed my hair before it went the same way." He smiled, hoping that Stephen was listening out there with one ear. He was going to get Franklin back for this at some point. "Don't know what Stephen got so worried about, I was only in the bathroom. Took twice as long 'cause I had a sodding I.V in my arm." Susan couldn't help but laugh. How his good humour had for the most part remained intact she couldn't figure out. "Do you have any idea how difficult that makes it?" He added before concluding. "Bloody impossible."  
  
"So are you." She remarked, seeing instantly how he lit up when she smiled. How it egged him on to talk some more mindless crap.  
  
"Well if you'd been here over a month you'd be more than mildly peeved and throwing rubix-cubes." He gestured over to a bowl with unidentified mush inside it. "I mean the food's terrible."  
  
Susan picked up the bowl and stirred it around. It looked like- no, she saved herself the mental image. "Urgh." She remarked, scooping it up and dropping it back in. "No wonder you have no appetite."  
  
"It'd help if I knew what it was."  
  
"Well it's erm," She began, seeing Marcus silently inviting her to enlighten him as to the content of his dinner. "-it's...it's brown."  
  
"Tastes brown too." He concluded as she replaced the bowl back on the table. "So, is the station that busy?"  
  
"As always." Susan added, with the intension to begin to work towards the uncomfortable revelation about her departure. "It's funny," She stated, wondering how many hints she'd have drop before he began to get the idea. He'd worked out Sinclairs' course of action on Babylon 4 before everyone else had, maybe now his powers of deduction could make a remarkable return to form. "It never really occurred to me how much John did around here. Things are gonna be hell of a different."  
  
"Have you taken his office yet?" He asked, seeming to take a genuine interest in station affairs. Apart from two med-techs having sex in a closet last week it was pretty dull in there.  
  
Ivanova paused before she answered, knowing that while she couldn't lie, his mind was certainly now verified as on the wrong side of the road to hear about her imminent departure. "Just about. It's hell of a pair of shoes to fill. I still can't get over being called captain, people have to holler three times before it sinks in."  
  
"I wont give you that problem." He added, before his face suddenly grimaced and he groaned. She'd almost forgotten about how much pain he had been in- so naturally the universe had to reassert itself before she got too comfortable. Marcus closed his eyes and breathed deeply, with only one onomatopoeic statement to make about his current situation.  
  
"Ow."  
  
"You want me to get Stephen?" Susan asked, feeling very awkward at witnessing this. She'd been more comfortable in a room of Drazi playing purple vs. green.  
  
"No, I'm Ok. Just reminding myself why I'm here." Marcus sighed and lay back, staying quiet for a few moments. He was probably calling on his ranger training to ignore what was going on. Perhaps that was where his frequent random topics of conversation came from. Particularly the next remark as looked upward and started a new gripe on the med-lab thread. "Strip lighting. I really hate strip lighting. I mean after staring at it for five weeks – "He looked up at Susan and forced out a smile. "I swear if there's a hell it has strip lighting."  
  
She smiled back at him as he closed his eyes. He wasn't fooling her, obviously his Ranger training had not got up to the stage of enlightenment where he could transcend his own body. Perhaps that's where the Minbari got their strength and pain threshold from.  
  
"Not long now." He commented, keeping his eyes closed from the accursed strip lighting. "A couple of days and I'm out of here."  
  
"I don't know who'll be happier, you or Stephen."  
  
He laughed, but his face still twisted in pain. He breathed uneasily and turned his head away from her. He didn't want her to see, it wasn't fair to ask her to watch- but since when had the universe ever been fair?  
  
Susan sat beside, unable to help, but not able to leave him either. She hated being paralysed into futility of presence. She could do nothing for him but watch. Watch what he was enduring- for her. An awkward moment of silence followed, his hand gripped at the mattress, clenching his fingers around it. He shouldn't be doing this, she thought. Not alone. She reached out and touched his hand.  
  
Images crashed into her thoughts, an ocean against a harbour wall. A sea that swelled of pain and regret. She had slipped into his mind without even realising it.  
  
He couldn't breathe. His lungs were frozen in agony. Marcus panicked. He didn't want to die. Not alone. Not like this. But he was out of time- and out of air.  
  
Susan didn't want to witness this. She didn't want to know the terrible sensations the healing device had inflicted upon him.  
  
He lowered his head into his hands again, and wept quietly. There was no comfort in the universe, no absolution for being alive. Desperation and self-loathing were upon him.  
  
Why did he have these thoughts? What the hell could drive him to desperation that extreme? Why was she the nexus around these thoughts?  
  
She broke contact with him, both physical and mental. Holy crap, what was going on? He hadn't moved, he hadn't even noticed-  
  
"Marcus I- I have to go." She stammered out quickly, increasingly petrified by what had just happened.  
  
"O.k." Marcus mumbled, now wondering where this sudden change of heart had come from. "I'll see you soon, right?"  
  
She lied to him. She had no intent of seeing him again. She hadn't wanted any of this, to know his thoughts, for him to take the actions he had...she couldn't tell him. "Sure." She replied, not moving toward the door. This was not how she wanted to think of him. She didn't even want to think of him if truth be told. "Don't do anything else stupid." She added, trying to veil her hard wrought emotions with humour.  
  
"My stupidity quota's full for the next few months." He replied, still trying to figure what was going on beyond his level of pain.  
  
"Goodbye." She said before finally walking out of the door- knowing that this would probably the last time they'd speak...for a while.

* * *

Susan entered Brown 3- finding it apparently empty. Was this really a good idea? Coming down here alone? She could see the headline- "Ivanova nearly gets off Station alive." This'd be such a bad time to get killed...but at least it'd save her having to say goodbye to everyone. Typical Russian- finding the good in every situation.  
  
She turned for a moment, thinking that she heard something. Deciding it was nothing, she turned back. She was still twitchy from what had happened in Med-lab. Byron stood in front of her.  
  
Susan jumped slightly, wondering how hard it was to mentally distract someone enough to creep up on them. But again, he gave her a disarming smile. He was very charismatic, she noticed a small group of people also stood down the corridor, all dressed in black. She wondered who'd died.  
  
He folded his hands behind his back and spoke softly. "Captain, thank you for coming. I had hoped that you would."  
  
"Is there a point to this or are you wasting what little time I have?" Susan replied to his politeness. She didn't have a bad feeling about Byron per-say. But he made her uncomfortable. Perhaps in the future she should just write off speaking to anyone with shoulder length hair and an English accent.  
  
"Of course," He began, realising what level he had to work at. "I wouldn't wish to interrupt that headache you still have."  
  
Susan paused for a moment.  
  
He knew. He'd scanned her. The son of a- No, she wouldn't let it get to her. "What do you want?" She asked, the danger in her voice increasing. Susan began to wonder why she had come unarmed.  
  
"You are direct." Byron remarked, noting to himself the formidable will of this woman. She would be a bad person to get on the wrong side of. "Very well, I will not waste your invaluable time." He gestured behind him, silently introducing the group. "They are also telepaths. We are all rogues- those who would not join the corps or take the sleeper drugs. We have come here, as an independent Babylon 5 is our greatest hope for creating a home for ourselves, and for more who will come."  
  
He paused, allowing Ivanova time to absorb the information he had given her. "We ask only that we are allowed to remain here and use the station as a meeting place. We do not intend to stay here forever, eventually, we wish to create a home world for ourselves and others who do not wish to join the Psi-corps."  
  
His ideals were commendable, but little more than ideals. Why did all the political idealists always land at her feet? And why were they always stubborn and incomprehensible of the word surrender?  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that you're the kind of person who wont let an idea go?"  
  
"Perhaps Captain, but where is it written that all our dreams must be small ones?" He retorted, challenging her cynicism.  
  
"On my schedule." She replied curtly, not particularly in the mood for whatever schemes this self appointed messiah had. "Look, I'm sorry but this isn't my jurisdiction. If you want to set up camp here, make an appointment with Sheridan."  
  
She turned to go. Telepaths made her uncomfortable, Psi-corps or not. This man seemed to have a little too much Charisma, too much charm and willingness to win her over. It wasn't that she didn't sympathise, she just didn't want to get involved. Not if her suspicion about this headache were true.  
  
"Wait." He called to her, perhaps he had considered another approach. Ivanova turned to see one of the telepaths had stepped forward and seemed to almost hang at Byrons' sleeve. He was skinny looking figure, and couldn't have been more than fifteen.  
  
"One of us would like to speak with you." Byron continued, gently urging the young teep to open up a dialogue. "Go ahead Simon."  
  
Ivanova was a little taken aback by the next action. It was by far the most innovative way she'd seen anyone try to convince her of something- and that was saying a lot considering the people she was surrounded by daily. "Carnations." She commented, finding importance in the smallest detail. "Flowers. What the-"  
  
"This is Simon." He was introduced, still remaining a pace behind Byron. "He is the youngest of us. He can remember everything that has happened to him since he was born- and what's more, he can project those memories into other peoples minds." He stopped and stepped forward. Speaking at a lesser volume seemed a little superfluous in a corridor of telepaths but Byron continued his to lower his voice, creating some sort of verbal intimacy.  
  
"I believe the flowers were a peace offering. He doesn't wish to get off on the wrong foot."  
  
"I'm sorry," She addressed Simon individually. "I don't mean to seem so-" She paused, realising that he did not seem to be engaged through linguistics.  
  
"He doesn't speak." Byron explained. "He does not wish to- to any of us."  
  
Susan thought for a moment. If things had been different, If she hadn't been able to fool the Psi-corp testing centres all though school, that could have been her. She remembered another young telepath she'd help get away from the corps only a few years ago- she couldn't be jaded by war and time into not caring, no matter what the universe had thrown at her since Alyssa had passed through B5.  
  
"He looks terrible, look, take him down to med-lab and ask to see Dr Franklin. Tell him I sent you."  
  
"Thank you." Byron seemed grateful, but somehow he did not want to continue living in fear, surviving off the charity of others. Susan could sense a certain pride about him. "We do not wish to live on handouts though. We will work to keep ourselves, all we wish for now is to remain here." Last year they might have had their uses in the shadow war, but at the moment a group of telepaths may only arouse suspicion in the alliance, that Sheridan was using telepaths to spy on the other member races. But then again, they might have their uses. "We can do a lot for the alliance captain, and perhaps even for you."  
  
But in the end, it wasn't up to Susan. She could make a decision today only to have it rescinded by the new C:O tomorrow. It wouldn't be fair to give a definite answer.  
  
"Look, maybe you didn't know but I wont be around for very long. I can drop in a word for you to Sheridan- but it's not my business."  
  
Byron smiled again, as if he suspected something. It was the same look he'd given her in the transport tube.  
  
"No, it isn't yet. But soon."

* * *

John pondered over the messages. He wasn't afraid, but more alarmed. After he had called in Zac to take a look, he played over the last line of the audio message again, listening to the determination behind the threat.  
  
"Maybe I'll go to Hell for that, but I'm taking you with me." 


	4. Act 3

Stephen turned around and the telepaths were gone. He was startled for a moment, but within a few moments he let it go by. As he looked around his link decided to make itself notice. He activated it still a little phased by the sudden departure of his patient and company.  
  
"Franklin, go."  
  
Susan voice came over the other end, sounding tired beyond belief of her lifestyle. "Stephen, turns out we have a bigger problem. "  
  
"What's going on?" He asked, feeling this day was getting beyond interesting.  
  
"I can't say over the link- just that it's to do with John. Be in my office in twenty."  
  
"Alright, see you there." He replied before lowering his hand away from his mouth. He crossed the med-lab, went into his office and pulled off his lab coat. Why did he choose the one profession that involved numerous changes of clothes? Nightwear to uniform, uniform to lab coat, lab coat to scrubs, scrubs to lab coat, lab coat to uniform...it never ended.  
  
Stephen put his Jacket back on and eyed the door of the side room suspiciously to see if Marcus were asleep. If he were it meant he would be able to avoid sneaking out. He couldn't quite see and leaned forward to get a better view. As he did, he discovered that Marcus was not in bed, Infact he seemed to be wandering around the room. Stephen moved over to the doorframe to see Marcus rummaging through the contents of the room.  
  
"What are you doing?" he intoned, intending to make Marcus jump. He failed however, it seemed that Marcus had retained his ESP like observational skills.  
  
Marcus turned, looking rather irate, then replied, "Looking for a sharp implement to hack the bloody rubix cube apart!" He turned back to looking, disregarding the fact he was not supposed to be on his feet. Marcus began to rummage again and added, "Failing that, a skull to do my Hamlet impression with."  
  
Stephen crossed into the room, not wanting to start a disagreement this moment. He just wanted to be reassured that Marcus wouldn't do anything stupid, like disappearing, while he was gone. "Marcus, do me a favour and get back to bed," He pulled at Marcus arm before stepping towards the door. "I have a meeting to go to."  
  
"Anything interesting?" Marcus asked, yet unmoving. Stephen considered, then didn't reply. No matter what was going on Marcus was staying here. He was not particularly useful in this situation.  
  
"Oh come on Stephen this is me!" He exclaimed, stepping towards Stephen, not liking being kept out of the goings on of the outside world. "Just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm not part of the sewing circle anymore."  
  
Franklin paused for a moment, then considered that the last few events should be kept from him as much as possible. He could just see Marcus going on a half alive rampage of vengeance for the murdered ranger, not to mention the bigger problem Susan had mentioned. "Sheridan has a problem, he wants some input on it."  
  
"Does this problem remain undisclosed?" Marcus asked, feeling it was a fair question.  
  
Stephen paused for a moment, "I can't say."  
  
Marcus slumped slightly in disbelief. What did they think he was going to go and do? Run up to whatever this problem was and hit it until it went away? Granted that was often a good way of dealing with things, but right now he was well aware of what he was capable of right now. Stephen was just over reacting.  
  
"Bloody hell Stephen." He intoned, showing his frustration.  
  
"I have to go." Stephen informed him, dropping the subject.  
  
Marcus lent forward and hung on the doorframe, trying his best to upset Stephen considerably before his departure to the great beyond that was the outside door. "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you? Get conditioned to the outside world again?"  
  
His face suddenly twisted in pain again and he groaned, leaning against the doorframe. Like a hawk Stephen was on him, feeling that the point as to why Marcus shouldn't be up and around was being made without a lecture. "You still in pain?" He asked, standing next to him.  
  
"No," Marcus began to reply, half doubled over but still spouting sarcasm "...this is my Hamlet."  
  
Stephen took a great deal of Marcus weight (which didn't seem to be all that much) and started to help him back over to the bed.  
  
"Lie down." He instructed, suddenly being a doctor and not Stephen Franklin the one half of a great double act.  
  
As Marcus lay back down he put his hands to his face, and breathed deeply, waiting for Stephen to leave him there knowing now he wouldn't be up again. Was this ever going to go away?  
  
After a few moments he took his hands away and looked up at Stephen who stood over him holding a scanner. "Don't you have a meeting to go to?" Marcus reminded him, hoping somehow that Stephen would get the hint and go.  
  
"I just wanna check you're ok." Stephen assured him, seeing how ill he still was. Maybe he should rethink letting him go in a couple of days.  
  
"I'm fine." Marcus lied, not caring about the truth, just wanting some peace and for Stephen to stop being so serious around him. He felt his stomach twinge and groaned again. He looked up to see that Stephen was again reaching for a drug to inject him with. Marcus hated being pumped full of drugs.  
  
"Yeah, you look it." He retorted, loading up an injector before pushing against Marcus arm.  
  
"Hey, I thought I was the sarcastic one." Marcus replied, knowing what was about to hit his bloodstream any moment. It still seemed to be taking it's time, he could still feel his guts twisting. He shouldn't think about that. He needed something else to focus on, anything...  
  
"Whether ' tis nobler in the mind, to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?"  
  
Stephen smiled listening to Marcus' reaction to the pain. It could have been worse he supposed, he could have started singing. "Do us both a favour- cut out the theatrics and get some sleep." He remarked, reasonably satisfied Marcus would be alright for a couple of hours.  
  
"To die- to sleep." Marcus announced rather loudly as Stephen went for the door, before his voice died down. "To sleep! Perchance to dream."  
  
Franklin smiled again before leaving, murmuring more to himself than Marcus.  
  
"Ay there's the rub."

* * *

In Susan's' mind this meeting was only going on in the back of her head. Her attention wavered in and out only becoming engaged when someone raised their voice. Why did the universe do this to her? Why couldn't her replacement have been faced with the past day and the beginning of tomorrow and their hecticness? Her attention wavered back in as John went to argue this case again...  
  
"Now I am supposed to lead this alliance and for my money that means I should be out there where I can be seen, where I can do some good."  
  
"It's not the way things are done." Delenn insisted, more concerned for Johns well being than the idealism of her eccentric husband.  
  
"Well then maybe it's time some of those things were done differently." John began again, starting back on his idealism. "If some of our so called leaders walked the same streets as the same people who voted them in, lived in the same buildings and ate the same food instead of hiding behind glass and steel and bodyguards maybe we'd get better leadership and a little more concern for the future."  
  
Stephen stepped in to offer his two cents to the conversation, If he was going to be called away from work he may as well make the best of his opinion. "John that's a commendable idea but its dangerous."  
  
"Is it?" John questioned, hating the fact that nobody seemed to be on his side. What was the point in being President if what you said meant nothing to people anyway? "Our new friend just said "All the security in the world can't stop a lone gunman dedicated to exchange his life for the target. And he is right, so you may as well live instead of being a prisoner."  
  
Silence fell over the room, as if John had asked for a volunteer to go and make nice with the Zarg. Quietly John hoped for some back up from somewhere. Anyway in his favour right now would give him a little more validation and reassurance that his ideals weren't entirely crazy. Then, from the back of the room, the word seem to fall out of Susan's mouth, slowly, and almost unintentionally.  
  
"John's right."  
  
All eyes turned to her, noting that this was her first comment on the proceedings. She wondered if she would have been better off keeping her mouth shut.  
  
"Susan?" Sheridan invited her to continue her support of his half cocked idea of staying out in the public, where he was likely to follow in a long line of Martyrs such as JFK and John Lennon.  
  
Susan took a deep breath and began to explain herself very slowly aware all eyes were still on her. Sheridan was intrigued, Delenn looked worried, G'Kar looked Stoic, and Garibaldi looked ready to challenge anything she had to say that would compromise Sheridan safety.  
  
"John wants people to see him- to establish that the alliance is not built on hypocrisy. If he starts hiding now he'll never get out into the public again."  
  
Michael was already onto the flaws in her thinking. His choice of word were of that to a friend who was being mistaken, but his voice carried the edge of someone threatened by the danger to his friend.  
  
"In-case you missed the point Susan, someone's out to kill him."  
  
Susan decided she'd had enough of this and wasn't standing to have anyone speak to her patronisingly, let alone have John letting his position be undermined because everyone was worried that he couldn't take care of himself without the inner circle there to help him.  
  
"In-case YOU missed the point Michael...," Ivanova began coldly, using the same Patronising personal approach as he had done to her.  
  
"...I'm still in charge of this station for the next twelve hours! That means I have final authority of what goes on!"  
  
Londo shrunk back slightly, well aware with three wives as to how upset a woman scorned can truly be.  
  
Susan's voice lost its antagonism and pace for a moment.  
  
"Now, Whatever John decides is fine with me. I don't have the time or patience to stand here debating this kind of Crap-"  
  
Everyone stayed silent, almost afraid to move against her. After a few moments she irately yelled again. "Now Someone MAKE A DECISION!"  
  
John nodded his head, somehow glad of the impact Susan had since taking the floor. "We go ahead." He agreed. Delenn went to say something to him, but rethought her words. Enough anger was in the room already without her adding to it. She'd discuss it with John later.  
  
Susan wondered where her sudden bout of anger had come from. It was quickly dissipating into quiet embarrassment of someone who had just thrown a tantrum.  
  
"Good." She mumbled before making for the door before anyone could reply.  
  
With Ivanovas departure, the group began to break up and leave, or move into small Oasis of discussion. John and Delenn left, with Delenn seeming very displeased. Garibaldi and Franklin stood still saying nothing for a moment.  
  
"Was it something I said?" Michael asked, not completely sure he deserved that chewing out.  
  
"Was it something any of us said?" Londo replied, heading for the door. Women were after all difficult at the best of times.  
  
"I dunno." Stephen shook his head, somewhat perplexed before lowering his voice. "Y'know she still hasn't told Marcus she's going." He shared quietly with Garibaldi.  
  
Michael gave a brief look of disbelief. "Interesting." He commented.  
  
"Cutting it a little fine for my liking." Franklin added, folding his arms as he spoke and lowering his voice again. "I'm sure as hell not breaking it to him."  
  
Garibaldi looked back to him, clapped him on the shoulder and moved towards the door. "I'll catch you later." He called back to Stephen who stayed where he was.  
  
"Where you going?" He called out.  
  
"To find out what I did wrong."  
  
Stephen waited for him to move out of earshot before turning to G'kar and asking: "Is there one person on this station without a death wish?"  
  
The Narn merely chuckled in reply.

* * *

"Hey Susan, wait up!" A voice shouted at her as she made her way from her office. She turned on her heel to see Michael running to catch up with her. She didn't want to discuss it. She didn't want to talk to Garibaldi, have him stick a mental bandage on her and say "there-there." None the less. He was going to try.  
  
"What was that all about?" He enquired as he caught up with her, knowing that the last snap she'd given him went against a great deal of character.  
  
"Did you come for an apology?" Susan asked dryly, fighting to hear her own voice over the pounding in her head.  
  
"No." Michael replied curtly. "I came to see if you were ok, and to make sure everything was ok between us."  
  
"If you want it to be," Ivanova replied before trying to walk off again. Michael grabbed her by the arm. He wasn't ending her time here like this. In truth he was quite suprised when she didn't belt him for touching her like that  
  
"Don't walk away." He instructed, his voice gaining a certain edge. He moved his hand off her arm and began to take the situation calmly."Are you still angry with me?"  
  
"I shouldn't be," She began very matter-of- factly. "You didn't know what you were doing."  
  
"But you are."  
  
She sighed sadly, torn between her heart and her head. "Yeah, I'm angry at what happened to John, then I'm angry because I got put into the position of command where I made a decision to go and fight, which lead to what happened to Marcus. Isn't causality a bitch?"  
  
Michael went quiet. She hadn't been able to forgive him yet. It wasn't her fault she couldn't. He'd betrayed her trust, but it wasn't his fault either. None the less it hurt him very much, Ivanova could see the hurt in his eyes.  
  
Susan shook her head, trying to dismiss her suspicions about him. "Look, it's my problem and I'll deal with it in time. I just need some space without all of this confusion and politics for a while. I want to get back to the stars."  
  
He eyed her suspiciously, as if trying to discern the truth in her words. "Is that why you're trying to slip out the back door, praying to God that your friends wont notice until you're gone."  
  
"I'm not running Michael." She replied to the accusation.  
  
"Are you sure?" He retorted. He knew a lot about running away from his own problems after all.  
  
She didn't reply. She just though for a moment.  
  
"I know it's not my place," He began, "But make sure what you're doing is for the right reasons. Otherwise you'll end up regretting this, maybe not tomorrow but soon and for the rest of your life."  
  
Susan looked up and couldn't help but smile at Michael and how cultural surroundings had seeped so far into his brain he couldn't even think of an original speech to give her.  
  
"How many times have you seen Casablanca?"  
  
"Too many, obviously," He replied, glad that she was still reachable. "Just promise me that when you go, it'll be for the right reasons."

* * *

Simon was bleeding, he might be dying, but he kept going. He had to stop the assassin, He had to warn them, or Sheridan would die... 


	5. Act 4

Apologies for the delay- busy life etc the usual...

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

Susan was late. She was running through here current life like a crazed animal, each moment coming quicker than expected, the present moment being no exception to this. Her meetings this morning had kept her well overdue. Why was she even bothering with them? She should be leaving it all to the new captain who'd arrive sometime that evening. But she'd been insistent, she'd met with the people concerned- and because of them she was late to Sheridans' inauguration. She hoped she wouldn't be noticed walking in late and that she hadn't missed the big moment.  
  
Ivanova rounded the next corner and entered the retunda to find only a few people stood there. John, Delenn, G'kar and all other officials were gone. Zac was heading towards where she was entering, speaking rapidly into his link. She stopped him and made her enquiry.  
  
"Zac what's going on?"  
  
"The assassin got in," he began, "the kid came in and warned us then the perp made a break for it. We're still looking for him." Zac finished evidently on an urgent mission. She watched him jog away, activating his link and starting another conversation with his underlings.  
  
Looking back to the room Susan saw that one of the few remaining figures was Stephen, who was helping a body to be placed on a gurney. As she moved closer, she recognised the face of the young telepath she had met yesterday. Franklin raised his head and looked at her, then shook his head.  
  
"Oh God," She sighed regretfully, "He's just a kid."  
  
"He saved Sheridans life," Stephen remarked looking at the young face. "He stayed alive just long enough to warn us."  
  
They looked at each other in a silence of half respect half disgust, both feeling for the loss of the young telepath.  
  
"What kind of bastard murders a child?" Susan asked.  
  
"The same who'd murder John." He retorted, blunt and plain, hiding emotional resonance under a layer of professionalism.  
  
Susan and Stephen looked at each other again, sharing the same thoughts. Both keeping their emotions removed from the situation.  
  
"Captain!" A voice called to her from the entrance of the room. There stood Byron, whose way was blocked by one of the few remaining security personnel still present. From the expression on Byrons face he knew already, but had come to do what he could none the less. The guard looked to Ivanova for a decision as to whether he should let the stranger in.  
  
"It's alright, let him through," She informed the guard who let Byron pass.  
  
Walking briskly over to Ivanova and Franklin, Byron soon found himself confronted with the sight of his young companion. The shock of seeing the body was immediately apparent in his face.  
  
"Oh Simon." He shook his head sadly, then looked away for a moment. Susan wasn't sure, but he seemed to cry for a moment, before wiping his tears away and asking what happened.  
  
"He saved Sheridans life," Franklin informed him. "You can be proud of what he did."  
  
For a moment, Byron said nothing. He seemed to feel the grief of his other companions, as if he were in constant connection with them. Susan concluded that he had most likely been in contact with Simon right up until the moment of death. What could anyone say to alleviate that kind of pain?  
  
"Pride, Doctor," Byron began, still distressed at Simons fate. "...shall not return him to us." Byron then looked up, directly at Stephen. "But thank you." Byron was sincere, if not at all comforted by Stephens words.  
  
"I'm sorry," Susan spoke with great warmth and sympathy to Byron, seeing how deeply this affected him.  
  
However he weakly smiled at her, almost sure of the knowledge that Simon was now in a far better place. "His pain is now at an end."  
  
Susan found herself studying Byron closely. He was enigmatic, there was no question of that, but also disarming. Calming and more of a teacher than a leader she felt.  
  
Then he reached forward and touched Simons face, and spoke very gently. A voice of continued heartbreak and hardship- but also of hope. "Sleep well child."  
  
He stepped backwards and allowed the techs to remove the body. Byron followed them, knowing there was nothing he could do to aid.  
  
"I'd like to know where John is?" Susan asked Stephen, watching the young body move away from where they stood. Her eyes glued to Byron, what was it about him?  
  
"Oh, they're carrying on." He stated half-heartedly. "They went on ahead to the sanctuary."  
  
She sighed, weary and angry, but the thought in her head was that she might be able to catch up with them. If she weren't going to be there for the coming year then she should at least make an appearance for posterity. Or at least to keep John off her back.  
  
"Alright, I'm gonna try and make it," She stated, deciding that as unfortunate as events were, she must move on. "I'll see you later."  
  
"Is that a promise?" Stephen yelled after her as she began to exit with a touch of rapidity to her step.  
  
"Yes!" She yelled back before making her way towards the transport tube. Why was nothing easy on this station? Just for once couldn't things go well!  
  
As the transport tube doors closed after she had given her desired level, Susan received a message to her link from CNC.  
  
"Captain, we have a situation," Corwins voice nervously informed her. He sounded more than nervous. Leaning toward urgent than anything.  
  
"What now?" She asked, wondering if this were inauguration related.  
  
"The assassin's sitting in a Star fury ready to fire at the sanctuary."  
  
He was going to kill them. This guy was out to kill them all. No matter about who John was beneath the leader of the opposing side in the war. Cold hearted political recognition. No. She wasn't going to let it all end like this. Not while she was still here. Not when they'd all come so far.  
  
"Stop him!" She yelled, feeling she'd be damned if she were standing in a transport tube while her best friends were being murdered by a crazed killer in a star fury. "Send someone after him, blow him up-"She ordered, trying to think of a viable option. "I'm on my way there now!"  
  
The tube seemed to take forever. Every moment long and drawn out. The levels drifted by like lazy waves on an endless ocean. After what seemed to be an age, the doors finally slid open and Ivanova ran out into the corridor, passing delegates who themselves had fled the inauguration. Londo called her back, warning her of the assassins' proximity to the window, but she kept running. She wasn't loosing John. Not while she was in charge of the station.  
  
The section was thus intact. It occurred to her that if it blew now she'd probably die. Oh well, so much for long winded goodbyes and insincere promises to write.  
  
She reached the door of the sanctuary in time to see G'kar turn to Sheridan. He assassin was gone from view. Pieces of ship floated by and another star fury was heading in. Everything was okay. Apart from the fact John had almost succeeded in giving her a heart attack. She'd run for nothing... well maybe not.  
  
"Do you want to be president?" G'Kar asked, somewhat peeved at the effort it was taking just to swear Sheridan in. He hadn't been kidding about nor eating or sleeping while writing the damn oath of office, and now he was having great cravings for fresh Breen- but Swedish meatballs would have to suffice. That was if he could get it done on the third attempt.  
  
"Yes." John replied still in a state of shock from not having been killed.  
  
"Put your hand on the book and say I do."  
  
Sheridan did as G'kar told him, too bewildered by everything going on to appreciate the moment.  
  
"Fine, Done, lets eat!" G'kar announced ,walking away. He was so hungry he could have eaten week old spoo.  
  
Delenn smiled and embraced Sheridan, from there John caught a glimpse of Susan on the corner edge of his vision and turned to her, still standing in the doorway and breathing hard from running.  
  
Susan shook her head at John then smiled with exasperation. "Better late than never."


	6. Tag

It looked empty. Susan couldn't see anything that she'd left behind. Not that there'd be room for most of her possessions on her ship. Most of it was going into storage, she wouldn't have a lot of her things with her. But then that went with a starship, along with no fresh food and occasional gravity loss.  
  
She opened the suitcase again, checking she had everything. Hair brush, Stat bars, Vodka, boots... Wait. The left boot was missing. Lucky she'd checked. She considered how embarrassing it would be to have to return to B5 four days later for a shoe. Well, technically that wasn't allowed. She'd have to play by the rules completely now. The amount of rules she'd bent in the past year and a half since breaking away from earth was quite high in numerical value. No more of that. No more shadows, Pak'ma'ra. Drazi fighting for colour orientated supremacy, no more Rangers needing Identi- cards. No more Marcus ... She stopped that line of thought. It would do her no good.  
  
Checking under the bed she found the wayward shoe and seized it determinedly. Leave no shoes behind. That could be a fantastic motto...  
  
Her random thoughts were smashed into by the door sounding. The noise seemed to bring back her headache. It'd been gone this morning! DAMN! With an undertone of annoyance she requested the door to open.  
  
Michael stepped in. He was going to give her a chance to do this the easy way. But if not, he was prepared to be leaning towards unpleasant in this matter. As the old saying went, You have to be cruel to be kind.  
  
"Hi." Michael greeted her far too pleasantly to be genuine, especially with the day he'd had. "You're still here then?"  
  
"For about the next fifteen minutes." Susan informed him, pushing the lid on the suitcase down. It closed with a certain finality. It was probably the only time in living history a full suitcase had closed without having to be sat on. "I was checking I hadn't left anything behind."  
  
"So..." He paced the room a little, before moving close to her. "...you're really going?"  
  
"Michael-"She stated firmly, seeing this spiral into a heated argument. "I don't wanna have this discussion."  
  
To Susan's surprise he backed away from the subject very quickly. Too quickly for her liking, leaving her with her guard up.  
  
"O.k. It was just a question." He smiled warmly, genuinely. But she didn't feel comfortable around him anymore. She wasn't sure if this would be rectified with time or if it would always be awkward between them now. "I just came by to say, Y'know. I'll miss you."  
  
"Thanks." Her acknowledgement was weak. Barely directed at him. Michael hated the rift that was now between them. He was doubly convinced that he was going to get hold of Bester and scoop out his eyeballs. But he knew that some things he just couldn't let go of...  
  
"And to ask if you're stopping by med-lab on your way out."  
  
Susan paused. That was no-one business but her own. Stephen had told Garibaldi. Why couldn't everyone just leave her alone about Marcus?  
  
"Why would I want to go there?" She asked blankly, trying to cover all the emotion in her voice.  
  
"You remember this Marcus guy?" Garibaldi retorted with extreme sarcasm. "The one who saved your ass?"  
  
She sighed, trying to justify it to herself more than Michael. There was no way in hell she was telling Marcus now. He'd have to find out from someone else.  
  
"I can't just... walk in there and say goodbye. It wouldn't be fair." That much was true, just who was it unfair to? Her or Marcus?  
  
Smiling wryly, Susan turned on Garibaldi "Besides, when did you care so much about his feelings?"  
  
"He's still a pain in the butt- but he cares a lot about you. That makes him Ok in my book."  
  
Her eyes widened with partial amusement as he tried to salvage that statement without it appearing that he actually liked Marcus. He was way too left wing and idealistic, not to mention very vocal about his political beliefs.  
  
"Well maybe not Ok...Tolerable?" He searched for the right word.  
  
He concluded that this didn't seem to be working, and that he should let Susan get on with it. After all, it was her mistake to make. He wasn't going to stop her.  
  
"Look, I don't wanna argue with you. I just wanna say Good Luck and write once in a while."  
  
"Sure." She added half-heartedly before finding herself pulled into a bear- hug. She couldn't help but return the sentiment, and it wasn't very often Michael dared get this close physically.  
  
He pulled away and stepped backward, briefly smiling. "I got a couple of things to take care of." He added before opening the door, then turning back. "So long."  
  
"Goodbye Michael." She uttered quietly as he stepped through the door. She was alone, left with only one thing to do. But first she'd check under the bed again.

* * *

Outside, Garibaldi activated his link. After all, there was nothing HE could do.  
  
"Garibaldi to med-lab. Could I please speak to Marcus Cole?"

* * *

Stephen was not having Marcus partake in his Steve McQueen impression again. He was not in the mood and he wasn't convinced Marcus should be leaving med-lab until at least tomorrow.  
  
None the less, Marcus has successfully found his clothes and was virtually dressed by the time Stephen has been called in by the techs again. Marcus seemed in a great hurry to go as well. Had he found out?  
  
"Wait a minute- where'd you think you're going?" Stephen asked, seeing that the Ranger was seething and had no intention of slowing down in the near future.  
  
"I just got a call from Garibaldi telling me that Susan's leaving the station for good in ten minutes." He informed Stephen, tucking his shirt in before searching around for something. "I'll be damned if she goes without at least talking to me."  
  
Neutrally, Stephen remained by the door. He didn't want to get too involved with this, but it would seem that Garibaldi had saved him from the news he had been dreading the most to give. "I told her to tell you but-"  
  
Marcus turned on his heel, almost disbelieving that Franklin on all people had held out on him.  
  
"You knew!" He cried out in disbelief, feeling a little betrayed. "Et Tu Stephen! Why the hell didn't you tell me?"  
  
He searched under the bed for a moment before standing bolt upright and unleashing the anger he was harbouring on a slightly different subject matter.  
  
"AND WHERE ARE MY SHOES?"  
  
Deciding that Marcus was leaving regardless of his doctors opinion, Stephen crossed into the room and opened the door of a storage locker, before throwing Marcus a pair of boots.  
  
He caught them and began to pull them onto his feet as quickly as he could possibly manage.  
  
"Here," Stephen remarked reaching into the locker again. "You better take a link."  
  
"Nope." He retorted firmly, pulling the boot over his ankle.  
  
Franklin stood beside him, displeased that he was being un-cooperative again. "Why not?"  
  
"Because, I wont wear the bloody thing that's why!" Marcus announced to the whole of med-lab as he laced up one boot. Stephen could see he was heading towards a rant. "Bad enough you lot wear them, no privacy, no chance to get away always at someone's beck and call."  
  
Marcus stood and looked Stephen right in the eye, knowing that even in his hurry he'd have a problem getting away. Stephen grabbed his hand and scanned it, taking an I.D code for the link to fasten onto. "Why not put a leash around your neck and get it over with." Marcus continued, not content to be tagged like a wild animal. "It'd be faster and a good deal more honest."  
  
Crossing over to the computer console, Stephen turned his back to Marcus and began to input the D.N.A. recognition sequence into the computer. "Suppose, something happens- what if you pass out?"  
  
He punched in the last few symbols, preparing himself for a heated debate. "This isn't about being tracked," He began before turning. "It's about-"He turned to find Marcus had gone.  
  
"Marcus? Dammit!"

* * *

She'd made it. Four years, two or three wars and several hospitalisations later- she'd done it. Ivanova was really leaving. The customs area was the same as ever, unknowing of the significance of this particular visit. This part of the station held a lot of memories for her; the goodbye to Jeff that she didn't know would be for a year and half, the rushed greeting she'd given John on his arrival. And now it was all over. Time to move on and get out alive while she still could.  
  
She glanced around briefly, then without looking back she headed towards one of the customs officers. She had just placed down her suitcase and given over her identi-card when a sound she had been dreading and had very nearly escaped came hurtling through the door like a rabbit on stims.  
  
"SUSAN!" Marcus yelled, half in gladness of seeing he hadn't indeed missed her, half so angry at her surreptitious departure he had a good mind to clout her around the head to knock some bloody sense into her.  
  
He semi-doubled over panting, knowing that running the distance had indeed been a foolish escapade, yet a necessary one. He simply glared at her for a moment, while the fifty people in customs watched with great interest as to the unfolding events.  
  
With great reluctance, Susan took her identi-card off the guard and walked over to where Marcus was half-standing. Whoever had tipped him off was cruising for a bruising.  
  
After a moment, Marcus attempted to express his distress at her imminent departure. Or to put it another way, he was mad as hell, but also quite out of breath.  
  
"...you're...you're going...you were just going to leave without even telling me?" He finally got out, his displeasure at this, obvious through his tone of voice. "...what was the plan...send a postcard en route?"  
  
"I tried to tell you, but it just didn't seem fair." Ivanova replied, pulling him by the elbow to a more discreet area of customs.  
  
"As Mr Garibaldi would put it...horse-hockey!" Marcus retorted, shaking her hand off his arm and raising his voice. In his opinion, the term he used was a little too polite.  
  
"I meant to, I really did." Susan defended herself, sticking to that belief. Marcus seemed to be a strange mix of being completely furious at her, yet had come to ask her to stay. This was probably going to be one of the more interesting negotiations of her career.  
  
"I thought about leaving you a note..." She added, before he interrupted harshly.  
  
"Let me guess. It starts "Dear John,"  
  
"No," She replied, hardening her voice to match his. "It's starts with Dear Marcus."  
  
He paused for a moment, before smiling and chuckling slightly. Ivanova somehow smiled as well, and for a split second, things were alright between them.  
  
"Look," She finally began, realising that a more civilized and mature conversation could take place now Marcus was no longer on an angry rampage. "I've been here for four years now, I think I need a change of pace."  
  
"Doesn't that apply to being Captain here?" The Ranger asked, deadly serious now. The only problem Ivanova found was that she could never believe he was entirely serious about anything.  
  
"I always wanted to command a star ship." She retorted, before seeing some of the more eccentric wheels of Marcus mind turn to find an appropriate reply.  
  
"You can have a white star!" He came out with much too seriously.  
  
"I can't change my mind now, what am I supposed to say- "Sorry General, but I like it here better."  
  
Susan had knowing walked into that one. She should have known better.  
  
"Ah ha!" Marcus pointed victoriously, "You like it here better!"  
  
Her brow furrowed, feeling annoyance at Marcus self assured manner that he could argue his way into or out of anything, and also that he was right. "The point is it'd be very inconvenient." She concluded with gritted teeth.  
  
"So would having a new captain that no-one trusts or knows. It'd disrupt efficiency, they wouldn't get half the weird stuff that goes on around here..." He made points that were valid, amazing given he'd had only minutes to formulate this argument that Susan had been working on for the best part of a week.  
  
"Marcus..." She shook her head, wondering somewhere why he felt it was so important that she stay, other than the obvious. She refused to believe he would come running with an argument just to throw another "I love you," at her.  
  
"- why are you here?" She asked.  
  
He paused for a moment, mulling it over before he replied.  
  
"To stop you doing something you'll regret immensely. You didn't want to tell me because you don't want to admit to yourself you're going."  
  
He was clever. Too clever. He was far too right for her own liking. She wanted out of the conversation and off the station.  
  
"I'm sorry Marcus..." She replied before picking up her case again. "I don't have time."  
  
He stepped in front of her, not blocking her way per say, but making her confront him directly. "Well you asked!" He replied, showing her that her problems lay within herself more than with him.  
  
"Are you unhappy here? Lonely? Bored?" He queried, seeing no significant reply from Susan. She remained silent.  
  
"Didn't think so." He added, seeing that he had put her into an odd spiral of thought. "So what is it? What do you want?"  
  
"I...I don't know." She stammered out quickly before considering the question. "I really don't."  
  
"There's nothing you'll find out there that isn't right here- except for your friends." Marcus pointed out, trying to sound profound.  
  
"Why didn't they try and stop me?" She asked, not completely convinced of that argument.  
  
"Look you..." he searched for a word with the right level of offensiveness but failed after consideration that he liked his face in its current format. He recomposed himself and tried again. "They did. You just weren't listening." Filtered out through semi-gritted teeth.  
  
For a moment she considered, and Marcus thought that he might have won her over this time. Eventually though, she shook her head and replied.  
  
"Marcus I can't stay."  
  
Pushing down his exasperation and the feeling he was running around in circles he stayed calm. He was still working on patience after all this time.  
  
"Why?" He asked curtly, but not in an abrasive manner.  
  
"Because I have a knack for loosing those I care about." She began, no more evasiveness. No more duty to hide behind. Only the truth. "Because I don't want to see this new alliance fail- and because I don't want to loose their friendship."  
  
Those were sound points, but she still seemed to be holding something back. Marcus couldn't think what, but the excuses she had given sounded like poor reasoning for her. She wouldn't run away because it was easier than facing up to events. Or at least she wouldn't if leaving were made more trouble than staying.  
  
"In the end I can't make you." He stated, before kneeling in front of her. "I can only plea."  
  
"Don't do that." She commanded to no avail.  
  
He intoned one word to her, his eyes unforgiving and determined to prove that he never gave in until he got what he wanted. "Stay."  
  
"Get up!" She hissed realising the attention that was being drawn to them.  
  
"Not until you stop running. If you wont do this for yourself...stay for Sheridan, Delenn... even me."  
  
This was embarrassing. She now had the whole of customs looking at her again, and Marcus doing his chivalry impression wasn't helping. She didn't know if it were the pressure of the audience watching them, or the fact that she was now convinced she should take the course of action that prompted her next move.  
  
"I'm gonna regret this." She mumbled dropping her suitcase in front of him.  
  
"You mean You'll stay?" A smile spread across his face as she sighed, completely exasperated at this man. He got up and picked up her suitcase.  
  
Susan eyed him venomously, displeased that she had let him get his way and that she didn't know how much pleading John would have to do to get her posted back here. It was do-able, but would be a pain in the ass for all concerned. Considering however that John had been subtly asking her to stay he was probably ready for her to change her mind.  
  
She turned to Marcus irately and began to speak in a harsh tone to him. "You know that you're a complete utter son-of-a-"  
  
Susan's train of though was interrupted as she saw Corwin coming through customs with the new C:O walking not far behind him.  
  
"No, no. Well actually... yes." He attempted to explain as he walked, not too sure what to make of his new Captain. "It's, it's hectic Ma'am."  
  
"Well, a Hectic station is the first sigh of a poorly run station." Lockley spoke rather loudly looking around.  
  
Ivanovas' face changed to a look of absolute fury. Marcus had thought he'd seen her angry before, but Lockley had well and truly pissed her off without even speaking to her. As Susan stepped forward and into the conversation. Marcus prayed that this wouldn't get physical, because he was buggered if was intervening.  
  
"We'll change th-"Lockley began, before a tall woman dressed in a uniform that wasn't Earth Force stepped forward, followed by a man who was dressed in a Minbari style of clothing.  
  
"Excuse me." Susan began, attempting to keep her anger controlled and to maintain politeness. "Did you just use the words "poorly run"?"  
  
"Well..." Lockley began, bewildered at the interruption of this officer, before she was once again interrupted.  
  
"I thought so." Ivanova stated turning to Marcus for a moment. He rolled his eyes feeling another "Right hand of vengeance" moment coming on. "Lockley is it?" Susan asked.  
  
"Yes. But..."  
  
Ivanova jumped in again, looking most displeased but still not raising her voice. Corwin looked to Marcus, Who looked more to be enjoying this, than nervous around a proverbially boiling over Ivanova.  
  
"You see," She began, now redrawing the audience at customs she had so badly not wanted a moment ago. "I've spent the last few years virtually running this place and this is not hectic. Infact, hectic was when we were defending this place from our own carrier groups, hectic was when we where fighting a hopeless war against impossible odds," She smiled at Lockley with and element of danger behind her eyes. "...which I add- we won!"  
  
"I'm sorry, I-"Lockley tried to apologise but found that she wasn't given an inch to recover her mistake.  
  
"You see, over the last few years I've taken the time to establish one fact." She paused, pacing her speech exactly. "That this is MY station. Watch now: MY station," she announced before pointing upward.  
  
"MY sign,"  
  
She turned to Marcus and gestured.  
  
"MY suitcase,"  
  
She then turned to Marcus again and gave a final gesture "MY Ranger!"  
  
Lockley stood, somewhere between mortified and bewildered as Ivanova turned back to her and continued.  
  
"Now get your bad-mannered ass off MY station before MY boot kicks YOUR ass out of MY airlock!"  
  
Suddenly, she smiled sweetly and turned to Corwin, who didn't know what to make of this. "David, make sure none of my luggage gets loaded." She instructed in very friendly tones. God she enjoyed that.  
  
"Yes Ma'am." David got out, as she walked away, unsure what to do with Captain Lockley who had not been expecting that welcome.  
  
"Y'know," Marcus began as they walked away. "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

* * *

A little surreal I know, but from a show where Vorlons were angels, Security chiefs had motorbikes and Walter Koenig was EVIL- I think there's nothing wrong with a little of this! Hope you enjoyed...  
  
Crazy Ranger 


End file.
